


C-C-Cinnamon Lips

by Aezlo



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21965782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aezlo/pseuds/Aezlo
Summary: In which Crowley discovers he has a Thing with Aziraphale's lips, which really shouldn't be surprising considering the way he watches the angel eat.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 152





	C-C-Cinnamon Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Very, very brief mentions of chastity/ruined orgasms, but it's not the feature of the fic so it's not tagged.
> 
> This is culled from my bloody novella, Too Much, but it sits just fine on its own. 
> 
> All you really need to know is that Crowley's got some anxiety and self-worth and gender issues that get in the way of his enjoyment of sex, and they're working through it. (Some day I will write sex with zero hangups, but that day is not today). 
> 
> Title comes from the [OK Go's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_1EjS5aZG0) song of the same name. Utter schlocky pop with no deeper meaning (just like this).

It’s a breezy day, wind tousling Crowley’s loose braid and the raw curls that have escaped from it around his face as he rushes towards a certain bookshop in Soho. He’s carrying a box full of croissants, including several pain au chocolat, and smiling like the lovestruck fool that he is.

It’s a good day, and he pushes into the bookshop with bubbly charm and aplomb. He doesn’t need to call Aziraphale because the angel will know it’s him, will know he’s here, because the shop knows it’s him. He turns to drop his small yellow parcel onto the desk with the till, and pauses as he finally hones in on where the angel is.

He’s reading in one of his leather chairs, easily visible from where Crowley is standing. The sun is playing through one of the windows, suffusing him in an otherworldly halo of morning light, and he’s rosy cheeked and gently pursing his lips as he concentrates on whatever it is that he’s reading, and Crowley’s mind abruptly crashes into a brick wall at that.

Aziraphale’s lips are rosy pink sometimes, kiss-drunk or wine-stained, trembling and spilling over with endearments for the demon as he busies himself between his legs. Right now, they almost look like that, but _more_ and Crowley feels the lust coiling in his gut like a physical punch, and his knees very nearly give out. Aziraphale’s soft pink tongue darts out to lick at the slightly shiny, glittery rose tint suffusing his succulent lips as he turns a page and Crowley makes a tight noise in his throat.

He limps over to the angel, looming over him and standing in his sunlight, and Aziraphale looks up at him innocently with pale-blue eyes behind his adorable spectacles.

“Angel,” Crowley croaks, “close the shop. Now.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale starts a little to see the dark lust in the demon’s face. “Oh, of course dear,” his face breaks into a teasing grin as he reaches out and gropes Crowley’s hip as he gets up.

There’s only one or two people around the stacks that Aziraphale shepherds out easily, and he pauses near the till, sampling one of the croissants with a smirk as Crowley literally shudders with need.

“Angel,” he grunts, still rooted to the spot next to the chair, unwilling to trust his shaky knees to take him anywhere until the angel decides he’s ready for him.

“Mmm, thank you for these dear,” Aziraphale smiles up at him, adjusting his spectacles and thumbing at his tinted lips mischievously. Or, or, just maybe brushing away croissant crumbs. It’s hard to tell sometimes.

“Did you need something?” he teases, ambling closer to the demon and gentling a hand on Crowley’s back.

Crowley makes a hungry noise, scooping the angel up into a bridal carry and purposefully walking them to the back and then upstairs to their bedroom.

“Well,” Aziraphale flushes, still quite in love with the whole being carried thing after all this time. “Someone’s being forward today,” he giggles as Crowley sets him gently on the bed, moving to remove his reading glasses, but Crowley interrupts him by tenderly bringing their lips together.

“Oh my dear,” Aziraphale croons as he breaks the kiss, tucking the demon’s hair behind his ear. He softly removes his sunglasses, grinning helplessly at the love and lust blessing him there.

“You’re beautiful,” Crowley husks, eyes darting between his soft eyes and his luscious darkened lips and Aziraphale manages to remove his spectacles in the moment there that Crowley wrestles with his self-control. “I don’t tell you enough,” Crowley grunts, pushing forward and kissing him hungrily, eliciting a surprised chirp from the angel. Crowley could honestly just kiss Aziraphale from here until kingdom come if you let him. But they’ve been together for a while now, and he knows the angel _likes_ kissing, but he likes certain other things more, and well, he always wants to please his angel.

Aziraphale’s working to slowly undo Crowley’s braid, smiling and chuckling into the kiss as Crowley forgoes dealing with his cardigan and shirt, just diving right into unbuttoning his slacks. Crowley braces an arm against the bed, roughly hefting Aziraphale’s hips over the edge of the bed so that he can get said slacks off as Aziraphale squawks.

“Goodness, dear,” he pants, flushing desperately. Crowley seals his lips with another deep kiss as he gently lets his fingers roam over him through his pants, trailing circles on his mons and tickling his inner thighs.

“So gorgeous, angel,” Crowley whispers as Aziraphale trembles, arcing his back a little to try to get Crowley’s fingers to cooperate and touch him properly. Crowley grins and roughly pulls down his underwear, flicking his thick serpentine tongue between his lips at the angel who whines at the sight. Aziraphale’s libido is always so near to the surface, easy to rile up, and Crowley had once teased him for being _easy_ , _so easy, so ready all the time angel, anytime for me_. It hadn’t ended out very well, Aziraphale sobbing in a ball and Crowley feeling wretched. It wasn’t something that Aziraphale could control really, and he certainly didn’t mind if the demon occasionally took advantage of it like this, but naming it as such made him feel thoroughly unangelic.

He gently pushes Aziraphale back onto the bed, drawing a thumb from his perineum to his clit and making Aziraphale shudder.

Crowley sinks to his knees, grinning from ear to ear, and breathes in deeply. Aziraphale makes a low whimper at the sight, chewing on his fingers.

“Ready, angel?” Crowley husks, eyes hooded with lust.

“Please,” Aziraphale nods rapidly, quivering.

Crowley softly caresses his inner thigh, relishing in the shivers that he generates, and licks his lips. “Beautiful,” he whispers as he nuzzles against his abdomen, letting his breath ghost over his slick lips and Aziraphale very nearly grabs his head to force him where he wants him to go.

“Did you want something?” Crowley teases, letting his voice drop into the low registers that make Aziraphale’s eyes roll back. Crowley can’t see his face, but the helpless buck of Aziraphale’s hips tells him that he’s hit the mark.

“Crowley, please,” Aziraphale whines, fingers digging into the comforter. Crowley hums a chuckle, biting softly down his abdomen and laying a wet kiss purposefully just above his clit, making Aziraphale squirm and whine. He lazily brings his thick forked tongue down to lave over the hood of his clit, purposefully indirect and Aziraphale finally grabs his head forcefully, whining through his nose.

Crowley chuckles softly, laying a swirling kiss to his clit and relishing in the taut gasp Aziraphale releases at that, hips bucking helplessly again. Crowley’s snarked about him breaking his nose doing that more than once, and he nearly has, twice. It’s fine, he’s a demon, he’s broken things in worse ways.

Crowley looks up as feels Aziraphale’s gaze on him, and groans as he sees his lips, parted and panting, still painted in glittery rose. He kisses into him, not quite tonguing into him yet, just flicking at his clit and tasting the slickness glinting on his labia around his entrance, letting the angel feel the thick muscle of his tongue that will eventually be inside him.

“Oh my dear,” Aziraphale whimpers above him, and Crowley hums gently to assure him that he’s listening, grinning as Aziraphale whines at the vibrations.

Crowley teases at his opening, slowly delving his tongue in to taste deeper, and the relieved moan from the angel makes Crowley shudder and realize that he’s quite uncomfortable in his tight jeans, a wet spot spreading on his boxer briefs. He roughly undoes his own zipper and pulls himself out, hungrily kissing into Aziraphale’s tight heat and using his free hand to spread his lips and occasionally flick at his clit.

Aziraphale’s not going to last long, he can tell by the fact that he’s already sailed right past “my dear’s” to “my love,” “my dove,” “darling, sweetest, dear heart, oh _love of my life_ ,” as Crowley thumbs his clit softly and fucks into him with his tongue. Crowley curls his tongue up, pushing against the spongey tissue that makes Aziraphale arc up and squeal, and Aziraphale grabs his head hard and comes, chanting endearments as his hips stutter up into him.

Crowley very nearly follows him, and if his libido functioned more normally, he probably would have what with the hearty swell of pride and lust and love that takes him at Aziraphale quivering and gasping around him.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale calls in a warning tone, and Crowley freezes, looking up at him guiltily. “Did I say you could come?” he quirks a brow at him, pointedly flicking his eyes to where his hand is working at his cock, and seeing Aziraphale’s tinted lips twisting into a domineering smirk very nearly destroys him.

Crowley withdraws himself from Aziraphale’s cunt, and tugs his hand from himself, shivering on the edge for a moment, breathing harshly.

“Ssssorry,” he whispers, body rocking unconsciously back and forth with the need.

“Going to have to lock you up again, dear,” Aziraphale croons, tucking his hair behind his ears and Crowley shuts his eyes because _fuck_ , his lips are going to destroy him before he can even ask for permission.

“Please,” he gasps at the ceiling, not trusting himself to look his angel in the face right now.

“Hmm,” Aziraphale draws his fingers down his jaw, tilting his head up. “Look at me, love,” he whispers, and Crowley obediently opens his eyes, a low keen in his throat at the luscious pout on his lips.

“What’s got you in such a state, my dear?” Aziraphale frowns, pressing a thumb between his lips. Crowley closes his eyes, panting still but finally drawn far enough from the edge to feel sane and pliable as he softly swirls his tongue around Aziraphale’s thumb.

“Can you tell me, or do I need to ruin you first?” Aziraphale gives him a wicked smile and Crowley groans helplessly, jaw dropping and cock twitching.

“Nnnn,” Crowley grunts around the thumb, and Aziraphale gently removes his hand, wiping it on Crowley’s collar. “H-hah, you, fuck,” Crowley can’t look at him, can’t take seeing his lips as he bites back a smile at how affected he is.

“You have one minute to become articulate, dear,” Aziraphale pulls his pocket watch out, grinning ruthlessly, and Crowley moans, hips twitching helplessly.

“Lips,” he gasps. “Your lips, lipstick,” he manages, panting and feeling like he’s performing an immense physical exertion just tugging these words from his recalcitrant, muzzy brain.

“Oh?” Aziraphale tilts his head, genuinely surprised. “I, hm,” he reaches forward into Crowley’s jacket, fishing out his compact and considers himself in the tiny, smudged mirror. “Well, would you look at that,” he grins, and Crowley whines, leaning his head on his thigh.

“Ya didn’t know?” Crowley rasps incredulously.

“No,” Aziraphale laughs a little breathlessly. “I got this because it uhm,” he blushes, looking a little rueful as he holds up a small plastic tube. “It smells like cinnamon,” he smiles bashfully, “like you.”

Crowley laughs against the cleft of his hip, petting the gold kintsugi fondly. “I love you,” he whispers, looking up at Aziraphale with a soul-deep fondness.

“Hmm,” Aziraphale grins down at him, something mischievous in his eyes. “Get up here,” he pats at the bed, and Crowley whines. “Don’t make me wait,” he chides with a finely arched brow.

Crowley hefts himself up with only a little difficulty, settling next to the angel on the bed.

“Mmm,” Aziraphale smiles, running his hand up and down the outside of Crowley’s thigh. “I’ll be generous, my dear,” he coos, eyes locked on his cock. “I’ll give you a choice,” he licks his lips and Crowley whimpers, biting his own lip. “You can come in my mouth,” he holds up one finger, teasingly drawing it around his beguiling lips, “or, you fuck me and ruin yourself.” He grins wickedly, still toying with his lips as Crowley whines.

Crowley struggles with self-worth and _deserving_ , especially in sex. He struggles the worst with receiving without giving, and it honestly drives Aziraphale a little batty because while Crowley could kiss him until kingdom come, Aziraphale would quite happily suck his cock until kingdom come. Oh, perhaps break it up with a little fucking in between, but honestly, he just loves the sounds his lover makes, the textures, the tastes, the way he can unravel him with just a little teeth. They’re experimenting a little with chastity and orgasm control lately, working Crowley into a state where he can accept Aziraphale’s mouth on him and not feel like a horror, robbing him of the chance for Crowley to bring him pleasure.

Ultimately, it’s always like this, though, Aziraphale asking whether he feels capable, or worthy of an orgasm and then usually deigning to follow Crowley’s lead. _Usually_. It’s a heady thing, giving up control to the angel, but also terrifying, and he’s so, _so_ grateful that he’s gotten one who’s kind, and dirty, and patient, and loves him enough to put up with his problems.

“Well, my dear? Do I need to time you again?” he chuckles, reaching for his pocket watch.

“No, uhm, no,” Crowley jerks. “Uhm, I,” his eyes linger on Aziraphale’s mouth as gives him an indulgent smile, drawing his pink tongue over his bottom lip luxuriously. “Your mouth,” he whispers, looking a little terrified at the prospect but also dizzily aroused.

“Lovely,” Aziraphale grins at him, delighted. “Get your pants off, dear,” he gestures, tugging off his cardigan. Crowley jerkily gets off of the bed and struggles out of his tight pants and underwear with difficulty. He reaches up under his shirt and unzips his binder as well, feeling a little claustrophobic with all the panting.

“You could take it all off, if you want,” Aziraphale husks, petting his hip and Crowley’s knees completely give out at that, but he’s saved from bruised knees or worse by Aziraphale scooping him into his lap.

“So twitchy,” he giggles, fingers tickling his inner thighs as he cradles him. He tucks his head in next to Crowley’s, both of them observing the rosy cock with very different demeanors, Crowley anxious and Aziraphale lustrously hungry. “Are you ready, love?” Aziraphale whispers, drawing his thumb down to bend Crowley’s cock down slightly.

“S-sure,” Crowley whispers, trembling a little. Aziraphale gently pushes him back upright and gestures for him to lean back against the pillows. Crowley shakes a little as he does, but manages to settle back with a taut back and a tremulous manner.

Aziraphale raises his eyebrows, making a dorky kissy face which makes Crowley chuckle, relaxing him a little.

“Angel, please,” Crowley giggles, brushing a few springy ringlets from the angel’s brow.

“Oh, perhaps I should, hm, reapply before I start?” he grins ruthlessly, digging around behind him for the tube he’d proffered earlier. He doesn’t miss Crowley’s increased interest at that, chuckling softly. He sits up a little, uncapping the tinted chapstick and softly twisting it up. Crowley whines, leaning forward helplessly as Aziraphale locks eyes with him, drawing the tube around his bottom lip a few times before primly rubbing his lips together and popping them apart with an audible smack.

“ _Fuck_ , angel,” Crowley whimpers, feeling like he’s going to go to pieces without even being touched.

“This is penance for all the times _you_ teased _me_ as Nanny,” Aziraphale sneers.

“I-I, I wasn’t… I wasn’t doing it on purpose,” Crowley whines. “How was I supposed to know—” Crowley’s protestations are silenced as Aziraphale sinks back into Crowley’s lap, softly kissing the head of his cock.

“Look at me, dear,” Aziraphale whispers, slipping his tongue out to lap at the precum beading there.

Crowley whimpers, eyes darting around his face. “I love you,” Aziraphale teases, grinning up at him for a moment.

“Remember, stay with me,” he lets his eyes linger on the head of his cock, “Are we green?”

Crowley’s orgasms tend to sneak out on him as he starts dissociating, and while he can _get there_ as it were, it’s not very satisfactory. A lot of their recent work is on making sure Crowley’s able to focus and not start threading on about _oh no I don’t deserve this_ and _I’m taking too long, this needs to be over already so I can take care of you_.

“G-green,” Crowley whimpers, and Aziraphale smiles indulgently at him before promptly wrapping the head of his cock in a wet, tonguing kiss.

The sight of Aziraphale’s lips wrapped around him is usually too much, making his stomach twist uncomfortably with _oh no I’m not worth this_ , mixed with _oh god that’s the hottest thing in the fucking universe I’m not going to last one second_. With the tint painted on his lips, he’s glued to the sight like a train wreck, panting as he sees the marks Aziraphale’s leaving on his cock.

“Angel, angel,” Crowley gasps, back arcing out as he clings to the edge for dear life, not even conscious that he’s holding himself back just gripping the familiarity of _no don’t_ like a safety raft.

Aziraphale dives deep, taking him fully into his mouth to see if he can make him unravel at that, and Crowley makes a choked noise, hands knotted in the comforter. Aziraphale bobs his head, humming softly and tonguing at the precum that’s steadily oozing from the demon.

Aziraphale looks up to see the demon’s head thrown back, panting hotly and trembling.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale pops off softly, “Did I say you could stop looking at me?”

Crowley grunts wordlessly, looking dazed and a little drunk as he draws his head back down with difficulty.

“You may come whenever, you don’t need to ask permission,” Aziraphale softly thumbs at the underside of his cock. “Color, dear?”

“Green, green,” Crowley nods quickly, trying to keep his eyes on Aziraphale while simultaneously being a little overwhelmed by the sight, and maybe lying a little without really meaning to because he always wants to do whatever to please Aziraphale. He’s getting a little spun out on the feeling, a little drifty, and he should probably have said yellow, but Aziraphale’s pretty mouth smiles at him and _oh_ that’s nice. He works on groping back to being _here_ and not a few feet to the left.

“Fuck,” he hisses, bucking infinitesimally as Aziraphale slowly swallows him down, leaving a trail of rosy marks behind. He hisses again, hanging his head over Aziraphale’s, his long curls shadowing them both.

“Nnnnn,” he whines, breathing in slow and deep to ground himself. _Here, here and now_ , he reminds himself, _time doesn’t matter it’s not about time he doesn’t care how long it takes just relax._

Aziraphale bobs his cock against the inside of his cheek, before pulling back and just focusing on the head, swirling his tongue around and around incessantly, like he’s expecting him to come sometime in the next minute and _oh no_. Aziraphale looks like he’s having the time of his life, like he always seems to with his cock in his mouth, but the sudden increase in intensity forces Crowley to suddenly reassess and, ah, right _yellow, yellow, yell—_

“Yellow!” Crowley pants, not moving to push him off because he wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t deprive him of this.

Aziraphale disentangles his mouth, looking a little sheepish at the silvery line of saliva connecting them still, broken as Crowley’s cock twitches at the sight.

“Sorry,” Crowley grumbles.

“Don’t apologize,” Aziraphale settles down on his crossed forearms and watches him, waiting for him to either explain or ask for what he needs to reengage.

“I like looking,” Crowley mumbles after a moment.

“Ah,” Aziraphale nods, “But don’t try to force you, right.”

“Slower, too,” Crowley mumbles even quieter. It’s so _bloody_ embarrassing that Aziraphale, an angel of the lord, is the one who will go absolutely bonkers and fuck the living daylights out of him in a bathroom stall when they’re out for lunch when he’d rather a slow, tender thing in their bedroom. Some demon _he_ is.

“Sorry,” Aziraphale gives him a sheepish smile.

“No apologies, angel,” Crowley caresses his slightly mussed hair. “Kiss me for a moment,” he gestures for Aziraphale to sit up.

“My threat from earlier stands,” Aziraphale smirks, “Try to fuck me and it’s a ruin for you.” Crowley swallows a hearty groan, pulling Aziraphale in to kiss him before he can say any more incendiary things. He tastes himself in the angel’s mouth, sea salt and something musky and familiar. He just needs a quick grounding, a reminder that this is Aziraphale, that he’s safe, that he loves him and is loved in return, and Aziraphale trying to devour his mouth hungrily may not _ground_ him insomuch as remind him that he is very, _very_ aroused and there’s an angel in his lap incredibly interested in helping with that fact.

Aziraphale whines indecently as Crowley withdraws from the kiss, looking after his lips longingly.

“T-tryin’ to tempt me, angel?” Crowley pants, running his hands up and down Aziraphale’s bared thighs and groping.

“Maybe,” Aziraphale grins cheekily at him, and Crowley moans to see that he’s wasted a little miracle to keep the tinting on his lips in spite of the kissing and the cock sucking. “May I?” he purrs, fondling the dripping cock between them.

“Be m’ guest,” Crowley husks.

Aziraphale takes a moment to resort himself back to lying down on the comforter instead of propped in Crowley’s lap before pulling himself up to mouth at Crowley’s cock. He lets his breath ghost down the demon’s length, and softly caresses up Crowley’s hips as he lays delicate, wet kisses down the length of him.

His bright blue eyes perk up at him, a question unspoken, and Crowley just nods, _yes yes, go on._

He goes _slow_ , luxurious like when he’s enjoying some particular food that Crowley can’t think of right now because his brain is otherwise occupied. Soft kisses ringing around the head of his cock, then a hungry kiss to the head with slow, insistent lapping at the sensitive spot just _there,_ right under the head of his cock. Aziraphale can’t help himself, though, and devours Crowley in one go, resulting in a low choked noise from the demon and a warm hum from the angel as he carefully swallows around him, slowly withdrawing and settling into an easy bobbing motion along the top half of his cock that has Crowley panting helplessly.

He lavishes love on the pulsing vein traversing the underside of his cock, languidly swirls his tongue around the head, until Crowley releases a low huff of air and blindly grabs at his shoulder.

“Y-yes,” he pants, yellow eyes looking down at him unseeing for a moment, slowly filtering into focus and he recognizes when Crowley fully clicks in because the cock buried in his mouth twitches heartily and there’s another hungry groan. “Fffuck,” Crowley bucks and he tries to take deep gulps of air despite not needing them.

“G-gonna, oh fuck,” Crowley gasps, panting as his eyes go wide and he helplessly trips over the edge. “Angel, angel, angel,” Crowley shudders as Aziraphale keeps rolling his tongue around the head of his cock, sucking intently now.

Aziraphale dips his head deep, growling ruthlessly deep in his throat as Crowley pants and does his best to stay still. The angel pulls off with a wet noise, licking his lips ravenously as he smirks up at the demon.

Crowley sucks in air like he’s been drowning, and Aziraphale pets his thin thighs and blows on his softening cock, chuckling as Crowley jerks.

“How are we?” Aziraphale asks huskily, throat a little overwrought and Crowley makes a pleased grunt at the sound.

“G-g, fuck,” Crowley sighs and throws his legs out so that he can sink down and wriggle underneath Aziraphale for a proper cuddle.

“Is that a good assessment?” Aziraphale smirks, snuggling into Crowley’s chest, and Crowley huffs a laugh underneath him.

“Mmm,” Crowley sniffs. “S’pose if you wear that stuff more, I could stand that more often,” his smile quivers a little on his lips as he considers Aziraphale’s profile leaning against his breast.

Aziraphale throws his head back, laughing deeply, rumbling through both of their chests.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Aziraphale breathes hotly into his ear, grinning ear to ear.


End file.
